A Flirty Dozen

Love Found on Lindisfarne-3

It seemed like I’d only just got to sleep when my alarm went off next morning at six A.M. Despite the tiredness—or maybe because of it—I felt light-headed, almost giddy. The subconscious moves in mysterious ways, and I’d awoken knowing exactly what I needed to do, although the thought of actually doing it made me have to close my eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. I set about packing our things, then roused Kelis.

“How would you feel about breakfast on Holy Island?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

That was one way to get her eyes open. “With Chloe and the Vikings?”

“Well, maybe not with them. But we’d see them soon after.”

“Yay!”

I took that as a yes, and couldn’t help matching her bright smile. “It’ll mean we won’t get home today, though,” I cautioned. “We’ll have to find somewhere to stay on the way tomorrow night.”

“I don’t mind.” She yawned.

“Good. We’ll need to hurry to catch the tide. I’ve left you some clothes out, so you get dressed quickly and then make sure I haven’t left anything behind, okay?”

My hands were moist on the steering wheel as I drove us back over the causeway. Would Ian be pleased to see me? Or was I just about to ruin a perfectly good memory by trying to make something more out of it?

I guessed I was about to find out.

The visitor car park on Lindisfarne was two-thirds full already. Clearly the prospect of some good old-fashioned blood and guts was enough to get people out of bed early, even on a bank holiday weekend. Kelis and I got breakfast on the way to the priory, a couple of cheese baguettes which we polished off on the short walk, although mine was sitting uneasily in my stomach as we neared the priory gates. I hoped we’d be able to get in—the place wasn’t due to open for another half hour yet.

Ian was there already, by the longboat, dressed as he had been the previous day in his Viking kit, his dreadlocked head down over the weapons table. The euphoria I’d woken up with had faded, and doubt kicked me in the gut. Was I doing the right thing, coming back? I certainly wasn’t doing the sensible thing. Sensible would have been to get home on time, get back to work when I’d told my clients I would, and avoid all free-spirited hippy types like the plague.

But then again, if I’d been sensible all my life, I’d never have had Kelis. If I’d been a little less sensible when she’d been three, and I’d been out of university with a proper home and some money in the bank, I’d have had her in my life that much sooner. I’d thought about it seriously—going to see Shandi, demanding a part in my daughter’s life. But in the end I’d let my doubts keep me away. Told myself it was better not to risk rocking the boat.

So I never got to find out that Shandi had fallen out with her mum and moved out on her own again. Or that she’d started using drugs, and neglecting my daughter.

Who knew how differently all our lives might have turned out if I’d just thrown caution to the winds?

Kelis, who’d been chattering away about something or other, suddenly noticed who was there. “Ian!” she shouted, waving frantically, oblivious to my existential crisis.

Ian looked up and saw us—he could hardly fail to, the way Kelis was bouncing up and down. His face broke into a broad, delighted smile. “You came back,” he said when we were within earshot of normal speech, and not just Kelis’s ear-splitting yells.

I took a deep breath. “Yeah. Turned out I’d left something on the island.”

His eyes seemed to see right through me, but not in a bad way. It was more like he could see where I was coming from. “Something valuable, was it?”

“Yeah. Well, you know. Sentimental value, and all that.”

Kelis huffed. “Da-ad. What are you talking about? We didn’t leave anything here, did we?”

“Course we didn’t. Don’t know what I was thinking of,” I said, still gazing at Ian, at the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the pleased disbelief in them that made him look ten years younger. The light-headed feeling was back full force, and I didn’t care. “Tell you what, sweetheart, if you go in the priory, maybe you’ll find Chloe and Jack?”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ll be along in a mo. I just wanted to say thanks to Ian here.”

She frowned. “What for?”

“Oh, you know. Helping me find something important.”

“Oh. Yeah, thanks, Ian,” she said carelessly, and skipped off into the priory.

I watched her go for a moment, then turned back to Ian, suddenly nervous again. “Um, you did get I wasn’t talking about her necklace?”

Still smiling, Ian shook his head. “Do I look like I’m daft? No, don’t answer that. Come here.” Strong, wool-clad arms slipped around my waist, and Ian pulled me in for a kiss.

Then somebody wolf-whistled, and Balder’s voice came from behind me saying, “Bloody hell, get a longhouse, you two. That’s not how you’re supposed to be frightening the tourists,” and we broke apart, laughing.

* * * *

Epilogue

It was a hot summer’s day on the island of Lindisfarne, my daughter was off spinning wool with her surrogate grandmother, and my home-made habit was itching like crazy. Next time I was going to follow Sharon’s advice and go for some anachronistic underwear. She’d promised not to shop me to Kevin, sorry, Balder.

I was sitting at a trestle table in a little tent, pounding berries with a pestle while the more senior scribe (Finan, or Nigel to his friends) explained what I was doing to a crowd of rapt little visitors.

There was a sudden commotion at the entrance to the tent, and a blond, dreadlocked head appeared above the kiddies’ faces.

I made my eyes go wide. “Uh-oh. I think our monastery’s just been invaded.”

Ian’s grin was feral, and he hefted an axe—blunted, although the tourists probably couldn’t tell. We had a house full of weapons now, a motley collection of battleaxes, broadswords, daggers and helmets Kelis was strictly forbidden from allowing her friends to play with, on pain of having to watch Ian and me snog in front of them.

Ian had been living with us for nearly six months, ever since he’d discovered on one of his weekend visits that Cambridgeshire had just as many trees in need of attention as Bath had. Who’d have thought it? I’d worried, initially, that he’d move in, and a few months later the wanderlust would strike. Ian had kissed me, and gently explained he’d never had anything to stay in one place for, before.

“Urrrrr,” Ian growled, the low tone dripping with menace.

The kiddies squealed. Nigel rolled his eyes. “Not again. Third invasion this week, this is. Told you, mate, we’ve already given.”

There was an exasperated cry from outside, and then Balder burst into the tent. “Ulf? Ulf! Not yet. Come on, back to the boat. Sorry, kids, he’s just a bit too eager to hack off some heads. Tomorrow, Ulf. You get to kill people tomorrow.”

“Ur,” Ian complained as he was led away.

I was disappointed, too. We hadn’t even got to the monk-licking part this time. Ah, well. We could always do that later, in the privacy of our own tent.

In fact, I was counting on it.

THE END